


Live for the Applause

by Ensign_Conners



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Drug Use, M/M, Pop Star AU, Sexy Times
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-14
Updated: 2014-04-03
Packaged: 2018-01-08 16:21:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1134840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ensign_Conners/pseuds/Ensign_Conners
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim Kirk is one of the hottest pop stars out there. Leonard McCoy is hired as his personal physician to deal with the star's drug use.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so I shamelessly used songs from Lady Gaga. I think she is awesome. I don't own them and all that jazz.
> 
> I did this for 'sarcasm is a way of life', on tumblr. =) She wanted a McKirk thing.

 

 

 

 

He's brought in because of his worth. It's not much, in his own opinion.

 

He's got a Ph.D. and a Master's degree, but the hell if he can use them after his family sues him out of his practice for giving his father a mercy killing they were adamant to call “murder” or in finer terms “medical malpractice.”

 

So he's got a whole lot of nothing and no one, and he's threateningly close to becoming homeless. The gig with Jim Kirk pays better than he could imagine after everything that's happened and he really doesn't have much of a choice, so he swallows his annoyance and fucking deals. See, the things is, Jim Kirk is notorious for drug use, and according to his manager, Montgomery “Scotty” Scott, Jim has had the “occasional” overdose.

 

Leonard's job rests on discretion. Jim has never been in the papers for any overdoses, but apparently he's gone through two already. Leonard never hears why the previous physician or physicians are no longer with Jim, but Leonard's willing to bet the drugs are a part of it. The other part, well, he guesses he'll find out soon enough.

 

 

~~~~

 

 

The first time Leonard sees Jim in person, he's on stage during a performance at the Verizon Theater in Grand Prairie, Texas. The crowd is losing their damn minds from what Leonard can tell, but he doesn't bother to look past the stage because, well, the kid is mesmerizing.

 

He's decked in black leather, all skin tight from the tank top to the pants, clunky black boots on his feet and he's owning the stage. He moves like fluid, like art, and fuck if Leonard never thought himself the type to wax poetic.

 

It certainly makes sense, that Jim would be this, some kind of strange, amazing thing because he's famous after all, nearly every song topping the charts for weeks at a time. And while Leonard has to admit, it sounds like racket to him, the sight of Jim performing is something else entirely.

 

Currently, the blond is doing a hip roll that should be illegal before flowing on into the bridge of his new song “ _Applause_.” His hands go up over his head to clap as he bounds to the front of the stage to bend down to the pit and shower his closest audience with attention.

 

 _“Give me that thing that I love, put your hands up, make 'em touch, touch!”_ Jim's voice booms over the music, rough and sultry as he goes down the line of upraised hands, giving enthusiastic high fives to the beat of the music.

 

Leonard smirks to himself and leans in the archway that leads backstage. He's really starting to wonder just what the hell he's gotten himself into.

 

 

~~~~

 

 

After the show, Jim rowdily enters his personal room backstage to see Leonard sitting on the one very ugly, paisley couch, waiting to meet him.

 

Leonard doesn't bother to say hi, merely stares moodily at the other man who continues to stare back with an interested slant to his eyes and a frustratingly hot smirk pulling at one side of his mouth.

 

“Bones,” Jim says without preamble before flopping down in his make-up chair and facing the large mirror. He plucks at the moist towelettes in their container before running the cloths over his face and neck.

 

“Excuse me?” Leonard says, feeling his right brow rise up his forehead.

 

“That's your name now.” Jim says simply, plucking at his leather tank top. “Fuck, I'm gonna need help to get this off.”

 

Leonard is still stuck in the land of bafflement as Jim stands and wanders over to him, the tank top rolled half up his torso, but seemingly refusing to budge further.

 

Jim huffs and looks at him expectantly. “Some help here.”

 

Now Leonard scowls and crosses his arms, adamantly keeping his eyes up on Jim's face. “I'm your doctor not your personal assistant.”

 

Jim's eyes get feral suddenly and that's all the warning Leonard gets before he's introduced to a lap full of sweaty man. Leonard freezes as he feels Jim's stubble scratch across his clean-shaven cheek before soft lips press against his ear. “You're whatever I want you to be.” He whispers slow and low before pulling back and raising his hands up. “Help... _please_.”

 

Leonard swallows and mistakenly looks up into Jim's dark eyes, only slivers of blue visible. He feels swallowed in the molten gaze, and interestingly enough, his hands rise and he begins to help loose the tight fabric from Jim's chest.

 

Jim smiles, pleased, his intense gaze on Leonard the whole time, making the doctor's heart pound loudly in his chest as his fingers slide across the sweat slicked skin of Jim's back. He's burning hot and surprisingly, he smells fantastic.

 

It takes an agonizingly long minute to slide the fabric up enough that Jim is able to shrug it the rest of the way off. The blond tosses the article of clothing across the room before smoothly repositioning himself so that his leather-bound ass is pressed right over Leonard's growing erection.

 

Leonard, predictably, is unable to contain the groan that punches out of him. _Christ._

 

Jim's mouth is over his the next second, complete surprise allowing the blond to part Leonard's lips easily with his tongue.

 

It's a filthy kiss and it's mind-meltingly hot. Leonard clamps his hands over Jim's sweaty hips and pants into the other man's mouth helplessly, completely lost in the burning heat of Jim. It's perfectly understandable to whimper when that tantalizing supernova slides right from his grip and stands.

 

He blinks owlishly up at Jim, who licks his lips like he's chasing a taste before walking away. “Gotta shower now. Nice to meet you, Bones.”

 

Leonard gets a teasing over-the-shoulder look before the door to the bathroom is shutting and Jim is gone.

 

Well... fuck.

 

 

~~~~

 

 

Leonard represses much of the shit that's happened to him in his life, so in order to continue on and function, he represses the hell out of his very handsy first meeting with Jim.

 

Leonard sits down with Jim and Scotty after a lengthy time spent giving out autographs for fans after the show. The doctor had maybe made sure he was not in the dressing room anymore when Jim was done with his shower, because well... because.

 

Unfortunately, he sits stiffly through Scotty's rambling and refuses to meet Jim's cocky, self-satisfied gaze.

 

“Okay now, what in the bloody hell did ye do ta'him, Jim?” Scotty breaks off suddenly, turning in his chair to pin Jim with a disapproving glare.

 

Leonard catches Jim's cat-got-the-canary grin out of the corner of his eye. “I said hello.” He replies too innocently. Scotty continues to glare and Jim spreads his hands out. “ _What?_ ”

 

“Ye said hello? Yeah, I'll bet ye said hello.”

 

“Whatever, look at him, he's fine. Aren't you... _Bones_?” Jim says smoothly, putting a flirty inflection on the random name he'd given the doctor.

 

Leonard tenses further and tosses Jim a pointed glare. “Yeah, fine.”

 

Scotty looks between them suspiciously before shrugging and smacking his hands down on the table. “Okay then, moving on...”

 

Scotty is off again, but Leonard isn't paying attention. He continues to give Jim the evil eye, and maybe he enjoys the sickeningly sweet and coy expression Jim returns.

 

 

~~~~

 

 

Leonard doesn't see much of Jim after that since they have to leave immediately to make it to the next venue of the tour. Jim gets his own space on one of the two tour buses, only those he wants close with him, band members and such, while Leonard resides on the second bus with a rag-tag bunch of groupies.

 

He certainly doesn't mind since Jim's presence riles him like no other has before. He still hasn't figured out if he's pissed at the blond, painfully turned on, or if he has a bad case of chronic indigestion. It could be a combination of the three if he's honest with himself, which, nope.

 

At the next show, Leonard stands backstage to watch Jim's performance again and finds himself clenching his hands tightly around his forearms during Jim's song entitled “ _Do What U Want_.”

 

The blond is as effervescent as ever, making a complete circuit on the stage and doing his best to be mind-numbingly provocative. “ _You can't have my heart and you won't use my mind, but do what you want with my body. Do what you want with my body_.” He sings, running fingers teasingly over his bare chest, clad only in crisp white cuffs around his wrists and a collared bow-tie around his neck with black jeans and the same boots from his last show. He looks very much like a stripper, but Leonard is guessing that's the point.

 

Leonard finds himself frozen there until the show ends and Jim comes backstage. The crowd is shouting for an encore, but Jim just takes Leonard by the wrist as he walks by and tugs him along. “I need your help, _doctor_ ,” is the only explanation Leonard is given.

 

A sliver of worry creeps in at the simple statement, eyes roving over Jim's bare back as they move, wondering if something is wrong with the blond. Leonard wasn't exactly sure how much heroin the kid had been shooting himself up with lately, if he was at all, because he seemed to hide it very well. There were no track marks on his arms that Leonard could see, which had him guessing that behind-the-knee injections were most likely the favored method. Unfortunately, he hadn't been allowed to administer any type of check-up, which had him morbidly wondering if Leonard was just going to be kept around for the inevitable next overdose.

 

Jim breaks through Leonard's inner monologue when he pulls Leonard roughly into the dressing room and shoves him down onto a fancy chocolate-colored lounge chair.

 

He stares up at Jim with wide eyes and tries to sit up, but Jim climbs over him and pushes him back down. “Now just what the hell do you think you're doing?” He growls, tensing when Jim shivers visibly.

 

“Fuck, yeah, your voice is hot. Love how you act all angry with me.” Jim murmurs, snapping his cuffs and bow-tie off. He dips low and latches his mouth to the side of Leonard's neck.

 

Leonard gasps and bucks up, hands going to Jim's chest and pushing. “Who the fuck do you think I am?” He splutters, brain snapping between 'Yes, _more'_ and 'I'm not some hooker!'

 

Jim leans back with the push and rolls his hips purposefully over Leonard's crotch, causing him to toss his head back against the couch, hands clutching tightly at the tops of Jim's thighs.

 

Jim laughs lightly. “Don't act like you don't want this, Bones. Besides, you're going to be pretty bored doing the job they assigned you, why not have some fun? It keeps me out of trouble.” Jim finishes, becoming a bit breathless as he grinds down on Leonard once more.

 

Leonard chokes on his breath before he manages to grate out, “ _Stop_.”

 

Jim listens this time, stilling and then raising up on his knees. “Okay, fine.” The blond says airly, looking over the nails on one hand before his gaze slides over to Leonard's flushed face again. “If you're sure, doctor.”

 

Leonard swallows and stares up at Jim indecisively, noticing his hands still clasped around Jim's raised thighs.

 

Jim quirks one brow before huffing out a breath. “It's fine, I can go elsewhere.” He says nonchalantly, scooting back but Leonard quickly curves his hands around to the backs of Jim's thighs, stopping him. His heart is pounding in his chest again, part of him knows this isn't right, some moral part, but his recent anger at life in general drowns it out. He's been moral and look where it's got him. If he wants to have some meaningless and most likely hot as hell sex with some starlet, why not? It obviously wouldn't mean much to Jim either. No one would be getting hurt.

 

Jim smiles wide then and settles back over Leonard. “That's more like it.”

 

Leonard sucks in a breath as Jim pushes hot hands under his shirt and tugs at it until Leonard has to raise his arms so Jim can pull it off. Hands are at his belt buckle the next second, quickly unfastening it and then unbuttoning his jeans and dragging the zipper down.

 

Leonard moans as Jim spreads his palms over his bare hips, fingertips dipping just below his underwear.

 

Jim takes a shaky breath and starts tugging Leonard's jeans off. “Let's see what you have for me, hm?” He says, voice husky.

 

Leonard's jeans are only pushed down to his knees before Jim is dragging his underwear down and gasping, “Fuck yes. You're a fucking work of art designed to fucking kill me, fuck.” Jim says vehemently, hand going around Leonard's hard cock to illicit another throaty moan.

 

“I'd love to suck that beautiful cock, but I really need you to fuck me right now, so we'll just have to save that for later.” Jim grits out, hurriedly kicking his boots off and pulling out of his pants one leg at a time.

 

Leonard pants as he watches him, letting out an amused snort when the blond almost falls over.

 

Jim huffs in annoyance but smiles at him all the same before digging around in a stand by the chair and pulling out lube and a condom.

 

“That's... handy.” Leonard grunts, eyes glued to Jim as he rips the condom packet open with his teeth and winks at him.

 

“I maybe planned this,” Jim murmurs absently, mouth quirked as he rolls the condom on quickly and slicks Leonard up, pulling deep groans from him.

 

He kneels over Leonard, naked body still glistening with sweat, thick cock hard and flushed, making Leonard's mouth water. His legs shift restlessly, the feeling of the jeans at his knees and shoes still on his feet frustrating.

 

Jim lowers himself then and positions Leonard's cock right at his entrance, making Leonard gasp and still. “W-wait, don't you need prep?”

 

Jim's eyes get that feral look again, smile sharp as he shoves down, Leonard sliding into him in one sweet thrust.

 

“Oh, f-fuck...” Leonard whimpers, gritting his teeth against the pleasure as Jim sinks until his ass is pressed firmly to Leonard's pelvis. “ _Jesus_.”

 

“Like I said, I maybe planned this.” Jim whispers, moaning low and sweet as he lifts up and shoves down again. “Okay, totally.. ah, totally planned this.”

 

Leonard falls into a rough rhythm with Jim, both of them groaning and panting, mouths finding each other from time to time for fast, deep kisses. He can barely think at all, his brain overloaded on the feeling of Jim sinking down and clenching around him. His vision is filled with flushed skin, plush, sinful lips bitten red, and dark, wild eyes looking at him like he's water in the desert.

 

Leonard tries to hold out for as long as he can, but Jim feels so damn good that the build up to his orgasm is sudden and so intense it borders on painful. He shouts and jerks up, eyes screwed closed and mouth hanging open, fingers digging bruises into Jim's hips.

 

“Fuck, the way~ _uhhnn_ , the way you look.” Jim gasps, voice broken and blissed out. He hears more than sees Jim stroke his own cock fast, grinding down through Leonard's orgasm until a high whimper sounds and Leonard feels warmth spill across his stomach.

 

Jim clenches around him and Leonard curses pitifully at the over-sensitized feeling. The blond pants loudly above him and lets out one last groan of relief before collapsing over him and burying his face in Leonard's neck.

 

“I am... _soooo_ fucking keeping you. Fuccckk.” Jim exhales against his skin.

 

Leonard huffs and stares blearily up at the ceiling. He's not actually opposed to the idea regardless of the stubborn pride inside him that rebels against being some kind of pet. It could certainly be way, way, way worse.

 

Who's he kidding, it's a damn paid vacation.

 


	2. You and I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, something about, baby, you and I.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finally managed to clean up this next part and put it up. I want to say there will be another chapter, and that will be the for real end, but again, tried to wrap it up at the end of this one in case I don't get around to that.
> 
> Thanks so much for reading!

 

A couple days later, Leonard finds himself in the swanky pent house suite of some fancy hotel in Chicago. He's currently about to be dead, for _at least_ the next eight hours, preferably twelve. He's buck-naked and spreadeagle on a downy california king bed, covered in sweat and still trying to catch his breath.

 

Jim flops down next to him after a perusal of the headboard, equally naked and laughing. “Holy shit, there's a fucking dent in the wall, Bones. _We dented the wall_.”

 

Leonard groans and slaps a hand over his face. “How are you even alive? Obviously, I didn't fuck you hard enough.”

 

Jim laughs again and settles folded arms over Leonard's chest. “I don't know, I'm 26 and not some crotchety old man.” He says teasingly, poking at one of Leonard's nipples.

 

Leonard growls and swats the offending hand away. “Fuck you.”

 

“Anytime.” Jim purrs, smoothing a warm palm across Leonard's stomach.

 

Leonard swats his hand again but harder. “God, no.” He cracks an eye open to see Jim pouting at him.

 

“Bonnness, I'm bored.” The blond whines, though Leonard senses Jim is simply whining to annoy him. Jim seems to get perverse pleasure from annoying the hell out of Leonard. That or sexing him into a damn coma.

 

Leonard rolls his eyes and sighs, “Jesus, give me time to recover, you insatiable brat. I don't know, tell me how you got into the music industry...” He grumbles randomly, settling an arm over his eyes to completely block out the light in the room.

 

Jim exhales gustily and rustles around before his head is plopping down on Leonard's stomach, forcing a pained whoof of air from him. “I have a wikipedia page, you know.”

 

Leonard tsks. “Wiki-what?”

 

Jim's head turns swiftly on his stomach. “You're not serious? It's on the internet. Do you even know what the internet is-oh, _ha, ha_.” Jim finally catches him grinning. “You're so funny,” the blond says with dripping sarcasm.

 

Leonard chuckles. “I'm honestly flattered by how lowly you think of me. How fucking old do you actually think I am?”

 

“62?” Jim shoots back with obvious delight. “No? 78? 59?”

 

Leonard snorts. “You're such a little shit.”

 

Jim snickers softly before a sort of comfortable silence falls around them.

 

Leonard is starting to doze off when Jim starts speaking again, it's not quite a normal speaking level but it's not a whisper either. “My music career or whatever you wanna call it started in that cliché way, you know, in the garage of someone's parents' house.”

 

Leonard hums, encouraging him to continue.

 

“It was me and a group of high school friends. We started more grunge rock at first... we actually tried a handful of genres just because we could. I don't really know why pop stuck with me, I don't even really like it.” Jim admits, voice tinged with an edge of self-loathing.

 

“Are your band members from back then?”

 

Jim seems to hesitate for a moment. “Just Chekov, on drums.”

 

Leonard frowns a bit and peeks out from under his arm to see Jim looking contemplatively down at his twiddling fingers. “What happened to the others?”

 

Jim gives him a sideways look and shrugs. “What always happens, we just drifted apart.” He replies nonchalantly, but Leonard knows there's more to that story.

 

“ _Anywayy_ ,” Jim says syrup-sweet, head lifting from his stomach.

 

Leonard feels fingers walking themselves down the cut of his hip. He groans. “My dick is going to fall off.”

 

Jim laughs maniacally and pounces on him.

 

 

~~~~

 

 

Two days pass and Leonard finds himself in another hotel, but this time in Atlanta, Georgia. He'd feel worldly and traveled if not for the fact that each city was spent in a combination of deep sleep, sex, or watching Jim perform. If they did go out on the town, it was always night time and it wasn't long before they were sequestered away in some swanky lounge.

 

Not that Leonard really gives a shit. The city lights and scenery don't instill wonder in him anymore, and besides, he finds himself enjoying the blur of things with Jim. A voice that sounds an awful lot like his grandma lets him know that he's only hiding from something that will just come back to bite him in the ass later. Of course, he chooses to ignore it because he doesn't know what exactly would bite him in the ass that hadn't already.

 

He shuffles from the master bedroom in his boxers, scratching idly at his side. Jim is gone this morning, probably a meeting with Scotty or some other thing. The blond tended to disappear randomly and Leonard carefully chose not to give it much thought.

 

When they had arrived at the hotel late last night and Leonard had gotten a look at the kitchen, he'd immediately promised himself that all meals for the duration of his stay would be cooked there. The countertops were ridiculous, all sleek black and white marble, with stainless steel appliances matched perfectly together. Everything was painstakingly paired together for the best color scheme, right down to the island bar and its high chairs.

 

Leonard feels a simple happiness flow through him when he looks into the large fridge to find it stocked to the brim with the typical staples and the odd exotic item, even better still, he finds a bevy of immaculate cookware in the cabinets. It's a chef's wet dream.

 

He decides to keep it relatively simple and gets out ingredients for an omelette.

 

The vegetables are on their way to being sauteed when Jim comes up behind him and wraps his arms around him, settling his chin over Leonard's shoulder. “I want one.”

 

“No,” Leonard says, just to hear Jim complain, which he does.

 

“Booonnesss. Bones, Bones, Bo-ho-hooonness.”

 

Leonard grins because he's pretty sure Jim can't really see it. “Okay, you damn infant, calm down. Pick out what you want in it.”

 

“Yay!” Jim pipes, letting go of him to investigate the ingredients already out on the counter.

 

Leonard focuses back on making his own omelette, slicing up a mushroom into the mix.

 

“Oh yuck, gross. Now that makes me not want to kiss you ever again. That's fungus you're eating, Bones. _Fungus_. It tastes like dirt and butt. Dirt butt. Please, god, stop!” Jim practically hollers, smacking at Leonard's shoulder when he grabs another mushroom and slices it with fervor, looking directly at Jim just to be the annoying asshole in their relationship for once.

 

Seeing that his ineffectual slapping is getting him nowhere, Jim instead grabs the carton of remaining mushrooms and whips them into the trashcan.

 

Leonard growls and comes at Jim with the knife.

 

Jim shrieks dramatically and runs out of the kitchen. “Nooooo, my Psycho nightmare is coming true!”

 

Leonard snorts and rolls his eyes, going back to the stove because he spent good effort on his omelette and the hell if he's going to let it burn. Besides, with Leonard's luck, he'd trip somewhere and fall on the knife. “Why don't you get in the shower and we can do this the right way?” He taunts loudly, snickering when Jim tells him to go fuck himself from somewhere back in the bedroom.

 

Leonard grins and ignores him, flipping his omelette.

 

He can't help the laughter that bubbles up when he hears Jim yell from the bedroom, “Tomatoes, cheddar, ham, salami and pepperoni! And you better keep those damn mushrooms out of it or I'll turn this Psycho scenario around!”

 

“What's that? Extra mushrooms? You got it!”

 

“Bones!!”

 

 

~~~~

 

 

It's a week later, during a brief break in the tour, that Leonard finally witnesses Jim doing drugs. Well, almost witnesses, because the minute he steps into the private room of the upscale club and sees Jim poised with a needle in his hand and a tie wrapped above his left elbow, he practically screeches, “ _Jim!_ ”

 

Jim starts at the loud exclamation and the needle falls from his hand and clatters to the floor where his curly-haired Russian drummer, Pavel Chekov, scrambles to pick it back up.

 

Jim snaps his gaze to Leonard and scowls. “What the fuck, Bones?”

 

For the first time in quite some time, Leonard soars past his apathy and plunges straight into full on rage. He marches over to where Jim is sitting, rips the tie from his arm and pulls him up by the front of his shirt.

 

Jim swears, though he's too stunned to begin fighting him until Leonard has already dragged him out of the room and into the long, deserted hallway outside. Leonard uses his broader bulk to contain Jim, slamming him roughly up against the wall when the blond tries to low blow him in the balls.

 

“Seriously, what the actual fuck?” Jim hollers, struggling against Leonard's iron grip.

 

“Are you out of your goddamn mind?” Leonard hisses, feeling the urge to shake some sense into Jim. “You're ruining your life with that shit. You have this amazing career going for you right now and you're gonna _fuck it all up_ _!_ ”

 

Jim stops struggling and stares at Leonard with blank eyes, a kind of darkness shuttering them and sending a chill down his spine.

 

“You got some fucking nerve, talking to me like that. One word from me and you're outta here.” Jim threatens. It sounds nothing like him, though it does sound like something he's had to say before.

 

Leonard sniffs in disgust, pulling away from Jim. “Good, because I'm not gonna be apart of this. I won't stand by and watch you do this to yourself.” He growls, feeling a strange tightness in his throat. And fuck if he hasn't gotten attached to Jim... they fuck like rabbits, and in fact, Leonard had been seeking Jim out just for that when he'd stumbled upon the scene in the private room. It was an ugly reminder of what he was doing here, and he's pissed at himself that he forgot for even a second.

 

“Then fuck off,” Jim spits angrily, whirling away from the wall and stomping back to the private room. He closes the door after him with a loud slam.

 

Leonard stands in the hallway for a long minute before the image of what Jim could be doing on the other side of that door drives him away.

 

 

~~~~

 

 

Leonard goes back to Jim's hotel room with the intention of packing his meager belongings and bolting, but he just ends up sitting in the chair closest to a corner of the room where a table is set up. He slumps further and further down into the chair until his neck feels like it's going to collapse in on itself.

 

He can't leave, even if he maybe wants to leave. He doesn't want to see if Jim goes even further down a dark road, and he certainly doesn't want to see him in a body bag. It'd be too much, way too much, and he'd go to Scotty and implore him to convince Jim to go to rehab if the kid hadn't already been three times. At that point, it's obvious that course of action wasn't doing much for Jim.

 

He scrubs at his face, feeling so young and lost again. Feeling foolish and regretting. For the first time since his dad died, he actually considers if he'd made a mistake. Regardless of the pain his father had been in or the fact that the man had begged him for release, who was he to decide when it was his father's time? Maybe his dad would've gotten better somehow... and Leonard has to shut the door soundly at that point, because the thought is too painful, too sharp and jagged-deep. It's a stupid thought, too. Leonard did what was humane, what was right. There was no recovery for his father. Only extended agony.

 

He grits his teeth and forces his eyes to stay dry, loathing his fall into such a useless depression.

 

The thing eating at him the most, the thing he refuses to address by delving into other painful times in his life, is that Jim is in that room... Jim is...

 

“What did you think was going to fucking happen, Len?” He grates out into the quiet of the room. “Such a damn moron.”

 

He tries to think about when exactly it was that he went from begrudgingly tolerating Jim and his sex-starved tendencies to actually expecting them and seeking out his company. It's, for a lack of a better word, addicting to be around Jim. He's light and life, he's _alive_.

 

And Leonard feels alive when he's with Jim and that snarky smile is directed at him. He's afraid to go back to being angry Leonard, lonely Leonard.

 

It was a road going nowhere fast.

 

 

~~~~

 

 

Leonard is curled up in the one king-sized bed not long after that, trying futilely to sleep when Jim comes into the room.

 

Leonard tenses under the covers and listens as Jim draws closer, stopping when he must notice Leonard in the bed. There's some kind of sigh, it sounds relieved, before Jim pulls the covers back and crawls in next to him.

 

Leonard feels everything in him melt and relax when Jim wraps himself around him.

 

“I'm sorry,” Jim whispers. “I... you're right...”

 

Leonard swallows and squeezes his eyes shut, resting his forehead against Jim's.

 

“It'll be hard... to stop. I didn't... I didn't do any of it tonight, felt too fucking guilty thanks to you.” He grumbles, trying to sound angry, but only sounding fond.

 

“I'm just asking you to try, Jim.” Leonard rasps. “For me, if that means anything to you.”

 

Jim squeezes his arms tighter around Leonard. “It does.”

 

They lay silently next to each other for a while before Jim's hand cups Leonard's cheek, his thumb caressing the skin just under his left eye. “Thank you,” he whispers. “For staying... for not leaving.”

 

Leonard presses his lips to Jim's. “As if I could,” he murmurs against them.

 

 

~~~~

 

 

Leonard wakes up some time just before dawn, he knows cause he can see the pale light filtering through the curtains he didn't close all the way.

 

Jim is a furnace next to him, a sweaty furnace. Said sweaty furnace groans and turns sluggishly on its side. “I hate you right now.” He moans pitifully, kicking his legs to dislodge the last scrap of bed sheet covering him.

 

Leonard frowns and reaches out to push Jim's damp bangs from their flop over his forehead. “I have some meds in the tour bus, you know, they'd help with the detox.”

 

Jim sighs. “No... I just... I need to do it the hard way this time. I need to remember how bad this is when I'm clean and feeling low.”

 

Leonard leans forward and gives Jim a quick kiss. “Are... you're sure you wanna do this, Jim?” He regrets asking the question as soon as it's out of his mouth, but he's scared. He needs to hear Jim's conviction like he needs to breathe.

 

Jim finally opens his eyes and regards Leonard warily. “Not really, but... I know living this way means living fast and dangerous. And I guess,” Jim twitches uncomfortably, “I have something... someone to be clean for.”

 

Leonard really wants to gather the blond into the appropriate bear hug, but he knows Jim wouldn't be able to appreciate it at the moment. “Jim... if you do this, you're going to have to postpone the tour...”

 

Jim smiles tiredly, eyes closed again. “I know... I already talked to Scotty about it before I came back to the hotel.”

 

Leonard's heart thuds in his chest at the words, and he feels almost painfully proud of Jim amidst the swirling mass of affection.

 

He pushes a hand into Jim's hair, rubbing gently. “If I can do anything to help, just tell me.”

 

Jim smiles and opens his eyes, locking his gaze with Leonard's. “Just stay. Stay through the mood swings and the second-guessing... I'm going to be such a shit to you...”

 

“Well, shouldn't be any different than usual, then.” Leonard says teasingly.

 

Jim huffs a laugh, something weighty and intense settling in his eyes.

 

Leonard just breathes and drinks in the meaning behind feverish baby blues. He's pretty sure his own eyes are mirroring Jim's.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm putting this as complete for now since I definitely want to continue this AU but I am not sure if I actually will, so yeah. 
> 
> Thank you for reading!


End file.
